#mickey pham

[starrdew]

                               【 YOUR MUSE MAKING DINNER FOR MINE 】

@flovverbud:

“i swear to god, if you drag my cooking, i will literally chew on every brush and pen you own so that you’ll never be able to do it again — unless you want to indirectly make out with me.” as if minjoon’s cooking was anything less than exceptional, but still; his nerves got the best of him whenever he was showcasing his talents — whether it be painting a portrait for someone, or cooking in his cramped apartment for his friends. “be straight up with me — do you like japchae? i hope you do… i think i may have made too much…”

Her arms cradled around her stomach, trying to quell its growling. This was exactly why she never found childbearing appealing on any level. She could barely handle taking care of her own body, not to mention the fact that her life now rested in another’s hands since she lacked cooking skills. ( And money to eat out. ) “Eww. Don’t joke around like that, man.” By now she couldn’t tell if her nose wrinkled in disgust because of his threat or the torture her stomach was putting her through.

“No offense, but you can put a plate of blood sausage in front of me and I’ll eat it up.” Once those words were out, they didn’t even sound half bad. She could definitely go for some blood sausage now. “What’s on the menu anyway? Outside of japchae with the side dish of japchae, topped off with more japchae.”

[starrdew]

↺ Send me a [📷] for a fake caption gifset where my muse talks about yours!               Mickey Pham about @venand​

[starrdew]

☠ Mickey and Tristan

↺ SEND ME A SYMBOL FOR…   ☠  five times my muse thought about hitting yours, and the one time they did

i. five minutes later;

Mickey’s hand was already shriveled up into fists due to nerves. She couldn’t believe he responded so well. The strange request to let her use his likeness in her drawings rolled right off him. He remained so unfazed and kept his calm countenance together effortlessly. Meanwhile her head grew light from holding her breath, awaiting his response.

She raised her right hand in preparation to deliver a playful jab at his arm. Her own unique way of saying, “Thanks, pal.” 

But no. That’s fucking weird. ( And she already filled her quota for weird already. )

She turned sharply on her heels instead and power-walked right off.

ii. five seconds later;

Her eyes saw too much too quickly when she entered the room. 

She started screaming before he finished his sentence. “Partially nude! Partially! Every part but the 19+ regions!” Her face stung with under how fast and how hard her hands sprang up to cover her eyes. If only she had hit herself hard enough to knock the mental images out. 

“Why are you so calm?!” It figured that the quality she admired about him the other day would be the one she cursed at now. 

This guy wasn’t fucking human.

iii. five hours later;

She told herself she was fine.

She told her roommate who asked about her that she was fine. 

But no, wait a damn minute. No, she wasn’t. Tristan had the audacity to say he didn’t like cats–– To say that he would save her life primarily because he didn’t like cats. Her cheek puffed out with all the words she wished she yelled at him; her chest swelled with feelings of indignation. 

iv. five days later;

There was something about the way he muttered ‘humans...’ under his breath that still pricked at her over the following days. It didn’t bother her to the point that she bled over his scathing tone. ( It did.  )It certainly didn’t bother her to where she kept shooting daggers from her eyes as she treated him to lunch for his hard work. ( It did. ) But it annoyed her to where she wanted to lean over the café table and deck him. ( She didn’t. )

v. 

The recollection of what ran through her mind at the time was fuzzy like a radio channel overridden with static. All she heard in her ear among the roar of white noise was this tiny voice that urged her on. ‘Do it. Do it,’ it whispered.

However, she did remembered her open palm smacking down at his chest while keeping the other on the steering wheel. Her skin still had the mixture of the seat belt’s fabric and the hollow thud of striking him memorized. It wasn’t as satisfying as she imagined. The constriction of her own seat belt contributed to the lack of mobility and restricted how much attention she could divvy between not killing them in traffic and hitting him. 

“Don’t touch my radio,” she warned.

[starrdew]

( @wandxrlnst :: TRISTAN  )

Mickey’s table had a mixture of food crumbs and eraser shavings sprinkled all across the top. Her hunger was always the worst around lunch time since she always skipped breakfast. Her manners, however, got worst when she tried to multitask. Today’s task required her to once again try to perfect the sketch that left her bugged for days upon weeks. When thinking at her model she could break each feature down into clusters geometric shapes and lines with just her eyes. But in the time that she picked up her pencil and made light strokes on her paper, every mental visualization was flushed out of her memory. 

The ghosts of past pencil markings still remained on her paper even after brushing her eraser against them. The more frustration built up, the more pressure she added to her lines. With the turn of her hand, she shut her sketch book closed. She stood up even with the jitters of her nerves begging her to sit back down. For the sake of her comic, she needed to follow through with this though. The stolen glances from afar were ineffective ( not to mention creepy ).

There was about six inches of space between her and the other person now. She wanted to play it casual but ended up clearing her throat a lot louder than planned. Well crap. “Hi. I’m sorry if you’re in the middle of something right now, but can I...” The words were right there at the tip of her mind but she couldn’t verbalize them. “Can I, like, ask you a question apart from this one?

“I want to hire you for something.”